


hidden depths

by lunarsparrows



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Backstory, Character Study, Female Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Final Fantasy XIV: Heavensward Spoilers, Gen, Miqo'te Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Multi-Classed Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Named Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Original Character(s), Specific Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:47:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26632345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunarsparrows/pseuds/lunarsparrows
Summary: Estinien has never seen the Warrior of Light like this before.Judging by Alphinaud’s surprised expression, neither has her young companion, which made this situation all the more interesting.The Warrior’s posture had completely changed the moment the stranger called out her name. Ears drawn back and fangs bared in a snarl, she was tense, coiled, poised to strike at any given moment. Yet when she reached back for a weapon, the wooden cane that met her touch seemed to throw her off.the warrior of light reveals a hidden side to estinien and alphinaud.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20





	hidden depths

**Author's Note:**

> uhh i have no idea how i got here this was supposed to be a short piece abt my catgirl's "hidden side" and then i blacked out and wrote 3k words??? what the hell
> 
> this is mindlessly self-indulgent and i'm not sure if it's even coherent (please feel free to bring up any typos in the comments!) and my sub ran out + school is kicking my ass so. (sadly touches the wall) (hands u my catgirl) (hands u my catgirl) (h
> 
> 2/15/21 edit: this is outdated at this point and it doesn't fit into ziyue's lore + timeline anymore but i'm keeping it up bc it's the first ffxiv fic i wrote. also yizhong and ziyue are half siblings now

“Your green tea, ma’am.”

Ziyue takes the hot cup of green tea gratefully, sliding golden pieces of gil across the wooden table to the server and leaning back to watch the steam rise and curl gracefully. She could see Alphinaud still frowning at the menu out of the corner of her eye, likely wondering what to get Estinien as they prepare to visit the infirmary once more before they left Ishgard. It had been almost ten minutes, and she chuckles at his indecision.

Fortunately, Alphinaud was saved from staring at the menu until he went cross-eyed when the man himself entered the Forgotten Knight. Ziyue spots him immediately, waving to catch his attention. Estinien looks surprised but walks over, pulling a chair to sit at their table and startling Alphinaud.

“Ser Estinien,” Ziyue says, sipping her tea. “Are you sure you should be up and walking so early?”

“I could ask the same of you,” he replies. “Shouldn’t the Warrior of Light be somewhere doing something for the good of Eorzea?”

“We were planning to visit the infirmary before we left.” Alphinaud hands the menu to Estinien, who takes and flips through it with practiced ease. “But really, should you be up at this time? What of your injuries…?”

“The churigeons said that I was allowed ‘light movement,’ whatever that means,” he grunts. 

The server comes by with a flagon of ale and a serving of pie, which Ziyue pushes to Estinien. He raises an eyebrow at her.

“What do you plan on doing after you’re fully healed?” Alphinaud asks, tentatively sipping at his tea. He had insisted on getting the same thing as Ziyue did, and she watches in quiet amusement as he attempts to stay straight-faced against the unexpected bitterness. Eventually, she takes pity on him and reaches into her bag, handing him a small jar of honey. 

“I’ll travel,” Estinien says, watching Alphinaud dump a generous amount of honey into his tea with no small amusement. “Ishgard no longer needs an Azure Dragoon, so I’m as good as unemployed right now.”

“I’d assume Ser Aymeric would have no complaints about you staying.” Ziyue raises an eyebrow, putting down her cup. “In fact, I’m sure he’ll even appreciate it. A rock of stability in unstable times, or something like that.”

Estinien looks away, eye twitching. 

_Ah._

She sighs but decides not to press any further. The conversation dwindles after that, and they sit in relatively comfortable silence as they sip at their respective drinks. Alphinaud seems to have found a newspaper clipping detailing the reforms the newly formed Ishgardian government plans on implementing. Estinien eats his pie. Ziyue enjoys the rare day off where the Warrior of Light’s presence isn’t requested to fight another primal or end another war.

The amount of people in the Forgotten Knight starts to thin out as the bells signifying the end of lunch break ring. Tables are cleaned up, footsteps shuffle out the door, and the sound of hearty laughter and amicable conversation grows soft. Ziyue is about to ask for her last cup of tea when someone steps into the now-quiet tavern and says something that makes her stiffen.

“Ah, Wang Ziyue. _There_ you are.”

* * *

Estinien has never seen the Warrior of Light like this before.

Judging by Alphinaud’s surprised expression, neither has her young companion, which made this situation all the more interesting. 

The Warrior’s posture had completely changed the moment the stranger called out her name. Ears drawn back and fangs bared in a snarl, she was tense, coiled, poised to strike at any given moment. Yet when she reached back for a weapon, the wooden cane that met her touch seemed to throw her off.

“Not a bow,” the newcomer murmurs softly. “How interesting. Have you given up on the hunt, Wang Ziyue?”

Alphinaud is also tense by his side, clearly uncertain whether it was his place to intervene in this potential budding conflict or not. Estinien takes the chance to observe the stranger—a miqo’te like the Warrior of Light was, with the same black hair and black eyes. He couldn’t quite place their familiar accent; it is only when Ziyue replied that he realizes their accents are nearly the exact same.

“Lan Yizhong,” she spits out, like the name is poison on her tongue. “And what exactly brings you to me after you ran off six years ago, hmm?”

Estinien raises an eyebrow at that, leaning back into his chair to observe how this will play out. As far as he recalled, the Warrior of Light was generally always polite and affable no matter the situation, a calm lake amidst churning waters. To think someone could anger her to the point of open showing hostility…

Alphinaud turns to him and softly asks, “Are you sure we should be doing nothing? I’ve never seen her like this before…”

He hums, considering. If whatever was happening escalated and a fight between the Warrior of Light and the newcomer broke out, he was fairly sure she’d be able to handle herself. Gibrillont was unlikely to ban them from the Forgotten Knight for too long, as having the Warrior of Light herself in the tavern brought in a considerable amount of customers to gawk over their drinks.

He settles on a “let’s just watch for now” and sees Alphinaud slump out of the corner of his eye. 

“I’m merely here to offer congratulations for the Warrior of Light,” Yizhong says softly. “After all, the news on the street is that you ended a thousand-year war. Impressive indeed.” 

His slow clapping seems to make her even tenser if it were possible. A low growl sounds from within their vicinity, and it’s with a little shock that Estinien realizes it’s coming from Ziyue—a warning to the newcomer.

“My, you haven’t changed at all,” he says, sighing. There’s an almost oily quality to his quiet voice, one that causes the hair on the back of his neck to stand up. “And are those new scars on your face? Why…”

He leans in, and there’s a flash of silver and the sound of metal striking against stone before Estinien and Alphinaud register what happened.

“Ziyue-!”

“You’ve gotten faster,” Yizhong says. “I suppose you aren’t the scared kitten you were those years ago anymore, hmm?” The softness of his voice is a direct contrast to the sharp grin he has on his face, something dangerous and filled with teeth—a predator tracking its prey. 

Blood slowly trickles out of a cut on the Warrior of Light’s cheek, but it’s clear who really gained the upper hand in their brief exchange: the stone dagger pressed against Yizhong’s neck drips scarlet, while his own knife is on the floor.

“Yet you seem to have gotten slower,” she replies, baring her teeth in a smile mirroring his own. "Lost your touch, _hunter?"_ The knife is still pressed against his throat, and Estinien worries that if they don’t intervene soon, there’ll be news of the Warrior of Light murdering someone in broad daylight circulating around Ishgard tomorrow.

He clears his throat loudly and sees Ziyue blink rapidly, as if coming out of a trance. The grin drops off her face like a stone plummeting into water and her stance shifts into something less threatening, though she keeps dark, wary eyes on the newcomer.

“Well. That told me all I needed to know,” he says, standing up to fetch his fallen knife. Ziyue kicks it away from him without blinking, leaning across the table to grab at his collar and _pull._

“What are you doing here.”

Her voice comes out as a quiet hiss. Yizhong doesn’t try to move out of her grip, merely smiles in that soft, unsettling way of his.

“Just reminding you what you truly are.” He turns to face Estinien and Alphinaud, tilting his head the exact same way Ziyue does when she’s thinking. “She hasn’t told you, hmm? Don’t be fooled by the cane she carries around now—she’s a hunter through and through.”

“Wouldn’t want your canines getting dull now, would we? The one who killed your sister is still alive and out there, after all.”

Ziyue stills at that, eyes flashing dangerously. Yizhong laughs and shakes himself out of her grip. “Keep the knife,” he calls out as he strolls out of the tavern. “Though a bow still fits your hands the best, Wang Ziyue.”

The silence left in his departure is rife with tension. Alphinaud sneaks a look at Ziyue, whose expression has turned colder than the snow on Coerthan mountains in winter. She seems to be considering something (most likely thoughts of incredible violence) before sighing, wiping off her dagger and falling back into her chair with an undignified _thud._

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” she says quietly, eyes closed and not looking at any of them. 

“Hidden depths for the Warrior of Light,” Estinien says, eyebrows raised. Ziyue grimaces and schools her expression and body language into something more like her usual calm demeanor, though the sereneness she seems to be going for is slightly ruined by her tail lashing around in irritation.

“Did you… know that person very well?” Alphinaud asks cautiously.

Ziyue’s ears twitch and she sighs again, finally opening her eyes to look directly at them. Her gaze is piercing despite the pensive look on her face, considering her words and how much she wants to share about her past and relationship with Yizhong. It stings a little more than Estinien wants to admit; they had gone on something of a life-changing journey together, fighting off fierce foes with each other at their backs, yet there seems to have been little change from the polite yet guarded way she treated everyone. 

It also interests him in a way that makes him want to know more. Yizhong had said something about the Warrior being a hunter—a surprise to both him and Alphinaud, for Ziyue was quite the competent healer. It took no small effort to imagine the Warrior with a bow in her hands instead of a cane, and yet the ease in which she moved with the dagger and the predatory look she wore as she conversed with the newcomer spoke of a certain familiarity with it all.

“He’s something of a family member,” Ziyue finally says, grimacing on the word “family.” 

“Do family members tend to try and kill each other where you’re from?” Estinien asks, eyebrows raised.

“It’s complicated,” she says, rubbing at her temples. “He was part of our hunting family until he ran off six years ago.”

“Hunting family…?” Alphinaud asks.

“I’m from the mountains of Yanxia,” Ziyue explains, tapping her fingers on the wooden table. Her usually-faint accent grows a little thicker as she talks. “We had a small hunting family made up of three separate families who lived together. Mine was the Wang family, while his was the Lan family.”

“You might as well get a new cup of tea if you’re going to give us a long explanation,” Estinien says, cutting in. Ziyue smiles and nods at that, a new cup of fresh steaming tea in her hands. She cups her mug carefully, sipping at it and setting it down with a faraway look in her eyes.

“Living in the mountains meant that we mostly ate whatever nuts and berries we could find while scavenging and whatever game we could hunt down. We would occasionally go down to the rivers and fish, but that happened mostly at night so that we wouldn’t disturb the villagers.”

She takes another sip of her tea. Speaking of her homeland has made her face soften in a way that Estinien has only seen a handful of times when the Warrior was helping the local population in whatever settlement they stayed the night at or when they had arrived at Moghome and Ysayle’s face grew wide with wonder at the moogles.

The thought of Ysayle causes a twinge of dull pain in his chest. He still couldn’t forget the look of devastation the Warrior of Light had on her face as she watched their former companion fall lifelessly into the depths of the mist. There were no tears in her eyes, only terrible rage when she went off to fight the archbishop and his knights, and a hollow sort of pain when she came back, weariness weighing down her shoulders.

He shakes the thought out of his mind as Ziyue’s expression grows severe and she sets down her cup with a little more force than necessary.

“We hunt so that we may survive,” she says, eyes sharp and bright. “But Yizhong is different. He hunts for the thrill of hunting. He makes it a game and draws it out, striking fear into the hearts of his prey before pouncing. He is cruel, and we do not tolerate that in the family.”

“So your family exiled him?” Alphinaud says, frowning.

Ziyue shakes her head.

“He left shortly after my sister died,” she says, pausing. There is something strangely hesitant in her expression, and she frowns at her cup of tea before continuing.

“He got tired of hunting animals after a while. The mountain tigers were fierce, but not as fierce as him. He said he wanted something more exciting. Something more satisfying.”

She drags her gaze away from the cup to look at them, face perfectly placid and calm.

“He told me one night that he had decided on his next prey. He said that I was to be his next target, and that he hoped it would prove as exciting as he thought it would.”

Alphinaud’s frown deepens and he opens his mouth to say something, but Ziyue keeps going as if she said nothing of importance.

“We fought constantly. Away from the eyes of the adults, of course. I had two younger sisters, and I didn’t want to drag them into his petty game. He couldn’t kill me outright of course—it would be too obvious who had done it, and we were mostly evenly matched in terms of combat skill.”

She hums, her gaze turning into something far away and distant again. 

“I suppose that’s why he left after my sister died,” she murmurs, a guilty look flashing across her face. “I couldn’t muster the will to fight for a while. It must’ve bored him.”

Estinien says nothing at that, but something in his expression must’ve given his thoughts of “that’s fucking ridiculous” and “wow your priorities are fucked” away, because Ziyue turns to him and laughs, the distant look in her eyes clearing.

“Oh no, I’m not feeling bad for him if that’s what you’re thinking,” she says, rubbing the rim of her cup. “His mother was devastated when he left. I couldn’t tell her what the real reason was, not without potentially causing conflict between our families. Besides, I left shortly after to become an adventurer, didn’t I?”

“You left after Yizhong left because your sister got killed and you couldn’t fight him?”

Alphinaud shoots him an appalled look, and he realizes just how callous that sounded. Ziyue doesn’t seem to take offense at the offhand remark though, humming and tapping the table a few times before looking them straight in the eye. Her gaze is sharp and considering; Estinien feels as if he’s being sized up by a predator much larger than he is. Alphinaud shivers next to him.

“I had a pair of younger sisters,” she says after a while. “Twins. One was called Ziyang, the other Ziling. Ziyang loved adventure and wanted to see everything the world had to offer when she turned sixteen summers. She would probably be sitting in front of you instead of me if everything had gone to plan.”

Ziyue takes a sip of her cooling tea, making a face and getting a new cup before continuing. A distant look of grief crosses her features before she smooths it out, continuing her story.

“She went down the mountain by herself to get some supplies the night before she set off. We didn’t think much of it when she wasn’t back in an hour or two—ah, you Eorzeans say bells, I had almost forgotten—but time dragged on and we became increasingly worried. It wasn’t until we had all set out to look for her that we discovered her cold body underneath the midday sun with a bullet through her chest.”

Her tone is measured and expression carefully neutral, but her hands shake slightly as she drinks her tea.

“It was devastating to us. We held a small, quiet funeral and mourned her for weeks. Yizhong leaving hit the family especially hard, and his mother fell ill not long after. When she was nursed back to health, I had decided with Ziling that I would go see the world in Ziyang’s place.” 

There’s a brief pause as they take in this new load of information about the Warrior of Light’s past. It’s almost shocking how much she’s shared with them in this short amount of time—Ziyue usually glosses over any question they ask about her past or hobbies outside of being a Scion if it doesn’t directly relate to the mission, and it usually doesn’t. She had started to warm up to their little quartet while traveling through Dravania, smiles becoming a little more sincere and tone a little more familiar, but the sharp grief over Ysayle’s death seemed to have doused the flame of genuine companionship she felt with ice water and she had gone back to the polite but distant way she talked to everyone. 

“Well. Now you know why I became an adventurer,” Ziyue says before the pause becomes awkward. “I write letters home every moon to let my family know I’m not dead from a beast attack or poisoned food and send home souvenirs. Gods know what scenarios they come up with while I’m away.”

Estinien does vaguely remember her writing away at a piece of paper torn out of the numerous journals she carried, the flowing script she wrote wholly unfamiliar to him. She had sealed it and sent it off, but not before tucking in a dragon scale Estinien had no idea when or where she found it. 

“You do write in your journals a lot,” Alphinaud says, tone mild despite the obvious curiosity on his face. “And you have a lot of journals.”

Ziyue smiles at that.

“I write down notes and observations for each place I journal to—the weather, the vegetation, the people, conversations I’ve had, food I’ve eaten—so that I can remember each little bit of every journey I’ve taken. I’ll go home one day and tell Ziyang everything when things die down a little,” she says, tracing the rim of her cup again. “Ziling likes to hear about my adventures in letters too.”

Alphinaud and Estinien nod at that. They had seen the notes in the journals the Warrior takes, each page bursting with Eorzean script and the language she must’ve spoken at home as well as tiny sketches of whatever the view was at the moment and even a few of her companions. They had spied a small drawing of Ysayle interacting with the moogles on the corner of a particularly full page, though none of them said anything: it felt like an invasion of privacy somehow, though that was ridiculous, as she never purposely hid her journals from them.

“Is that the only reason you adventure?”

Ziyue looks up at him, head tilting to the side. Estinien crosses his arms, trying not to let the mild discomfort show on his face as he continues.

“You travel only to see the world in your sister’s place, and not anything else?”

Ziyue blinks at him, once, twice, until understanding dawns on her face. She sits back, humming with an expression that is both thoughtful and pensive.

“I won’t lie and say I haven’t thought about revenge,” she says, the words coming out slow and measured. “But I don’t have anything but faint suspicions on who the culprit could be, and—well. It’s certainly not what I journey for at the moment, and I doubt I’d have the time to pursue revenge with everything that’s been happening.”

Estinien notices the lack of a concrete answer, as does Alphinaud, evident by the frown on his face. 

“If I ever meet her murderer, I’d at least like to ask why they did it before slaying them,” she says softly. The tone, so similar to the one Yizhong had talked in, makes a cold shiver run up his spine.

“But, as I had said earlier, there’s precious little time for thoughts of vengeance at the moment,” Ziyue finally says, sighing as she leans back into her chair and stretches, tail swaying side to side. “You needn’t worry about me.”

Alphinaud’s frown is thoughtful, but he nods. Estinien merely keeps his arms crossed and watches as Ziyue finishes her tea, his tired mind conjuring up images of the Warrior letting loose arrow after arrow upon her enemies in order to fill the chasm in her heart that raged and grieved and bled and demanded blood, demanded retribution in return.

Like his heart once had.

A troubling thought, but one he stows away for now as the pair of adventurers stands up. They both say their goodbyes (Ziyue hisses _“talk to him”_ at him with a firm and knowing look, one he pretends not to see) and as she walks out with her usual firm stride, he sits there and thinks a bit longer before sighing and standing up himself.

The Warrior of Light, an accomplished battle healer who mended even mortal wounds with a calm wave of her cane, a hunter.

How strangely fitting.

**Author's Note:**

> ziyue's family and some other future wol ocs don't follow the moon keeper naming conventions bc they're from the yanxia mountains and naming is different there compared to eorzea! also yizhong calls her with her surname first bc that's how they do it at home 
> 
> thank you so much for reading, find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/lingwens) for a whole lot of ffxiv yelling!


End file.
